


now my heart stumbles on things i don't know

by seaworn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dogs, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Rating will go up in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-01-08 07:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12249813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaworn/pseuds/seaworn
Summary: “Yuuri - at least find something else, okay? This doesn’t sound like a good idea.”“I’m sending applications everywhere, Phichit, hoping that one tenth or even one hundredth will reply back.”“But - just look at the picture! The whole ad! It’s so suspicious! I don’t want you to end up in the hands of a serial killer, Yuuri”, Phichit said.**In which Yuuri just wants to find a job.





	1. prologue

“Yuuri, you’re _crazy._ ”

 

Yuuri shifted on the uncomfortable motel room sofa. The springs inside the sofa were squeaky and Yuuri suspected that they’d jump through the fabric any minute now. He _would_ sit on the bed if it weren’t for the suspicious, yellow stains on the supposedly clean sheets. Yuuri had showered three times after finding them and realising he'd slept on top of them, then promised himself to find some other place to stay as soon as possible.

 

“Am I, though?” He asked. He balanced the computer on his left knee, his right leg shaking in nervous energy.  The picture of Phichit on the screen moved with a little delay but Yuuri hoped it was just the crappy motel Wi-Fi rather than his computer falling apart.

 

“Yes!” Through the screen, Yuuri saw Phichit throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “You could just fly home, you know”, he added, voice softer.

 

“I don’t want to”, Yuuri replied firmly, hoping that they wouldn’t have to go through Yuuri’s crappy life decision _again._

 

“Yuuri - at least find something else, okay? This doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

 

“I’m sending applications _everywhere_ , Phichit, hoping that maybe one tenth or even _hundredth_ will reply back.”

 

“But! Just look at the picture! The whole ad! It’s so suspicious! I don’t want you to end up in the hands of a serial killer, Yuuri”, Phichit said.

 

Head cocked to the side, eyes skimming the ad, Yuuri had to admit that Phichit had a point. If it was Phichit in Yuuri’s place, he’d be worried too.

 

Yuuri had been browsing through every English-written sites he could find the whole afternoon, desperate to find some kind of a long or short term job, anything to give him enough money to get on his feet and rent an apartment or book tickets back to Japan. Returning home would feel like defeat, but what else could he do? He’d rather not give up just yet, but he had to be realistic, too. Apartments in St. Peterburg were atrociously priced and he didn’t really have a financial plan yet.

 

Yuuri had found that there were a lot of babysitting jobs available. Just pocket money jobs, basically, not enough hours or rubles to be considered as a real job, but Yuuri’d been considering them too. Yuuri had tried to find a proper job, but since he didn’t actually know Russian besides a few greetings like like _good morning, have a nice day, where’s the train station_ , he wasn’t qualified for most jobs.

 

Amongst of all those baby sitter ads, Yuuri found one ad that caught his eye, though. It was an ad looking for a dog sitter and alright, it looked sketchy as _fuck_ . It was in English, but  it was written by someone who clearly wasn’t a native speaker, so the ad ended up looking very formal - like the person doing it had looked up instructions on how to write a _very, very_ polite letter.

 

Besides, who needed a full-time dog-sitter? That was weird. It wasn’t “please take my dog on walks during the day when I’m at work”, it was “please stay with my dog 8 hours every day”.

 

“The man’s a complete catfish, don’t you see?” Phichit continued. Yuuri adjusted his glasses on his head and looked at the pictures in the ad again. There were two pictures: one of the dog owner, one of the dog. The picture with the dog owner wasn’t a selfie or a picture taken at home - it was something ripped straight out of the pages of a magazine. In the picture, a man with piercing blue eyes (they were so distractingly blue that Yuuri suspected Photoshop) and silvery hair was smiling to the camera. He was leaning against the wall in a suit, one hand casually in his pocket. He was extremely good-looking - like, improbably so. And then again, the picture of his dog was smudgy phone quality, a grainy picture that showed two brown eyes and a pink tongue surrounded by brown, curly fur. The dog was Vicchan’s breed. That was the reason Yuuri had even opened the ad in the first place, to be honest. That’s why he was a little bit disappointed that the whole situation was most likely a scam.

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right”, he conceded, then stopped to think, eyes fixed to the dog. He thought about his crappy life, sitting in a dingy, dusty room of the cheapest motel he'd found.  “But what if this _is_ a real chance? He looks rich, so maybe he just simply has the money to do this?”

 

“ _Yuuri-ii_ ”, Phichit whined.

 

“I’m going to message them”, Yuuri decided. He’d know if it was a scam to moment they replied, _if_ they replied. He was desperate, reaching out to any place he could. Except home, it seemed. Yuuri realised he was being stubborn, but he was not going to return home, beaten and down, ready to hear a dozen “I told you so” speeches.

 

It had been a stupid idea to move here in the first place, but there was no use in crying now.

 

“Yuuri, no!” Phichit insisted.

 

“There’s no harm in messaging them. Plus, the dog is just like…” Yuuri trailed off as he sent a quick message in English, explaining that he was willing to dogsit _Makkachin_ however it suited Mr. Nikiforov, and that he was reliable and loved animals, blah blah.

 

“At least meet this “Viktor””- Phichit did very elaborate air quotes - “ in a public place. It’s a scam, Yuuri, and he’s probably a serial killer or something. He’ll at least rob you or steal your credit card information.”

 

“The joke’s on him; I don’t have any money. And what if it isn’t? I’m going to suggest a meeting in a dog park or something, somewhere where there’s people. If he doesn’t bring the dog, I’ll promise to consider that as suspicious, okay?”

 

“What if the dog is trained to attack you, like -”

 

“And anyway”, he added before Phichit could continue. “I sent a bunch of other messages too to less-suspicious places. Don’t worry, I don’t think they’re gonna reply.”

 

**

 

They _did_ reply. Within an hour. Yuuri was still sitting in that same armchair. He was just about to get up when a pop up window of his email appeared to the bottom right on his computer screen.

 

_Re: Dog-sitting_

 

_Hello, Yuuri!_

_I am thrilled by your response!_

_May I suggest a meeting somewhere? I am sorry if this seems too sudden, I am just very eager to meet a potential applicant for the job!_

_Please let me know when you would be available._

 

_With Kind Regards,_

_Viktor Nikiforov_

_виктор никифоров_

_\--_

_The Nikiforov Corporation_

_корпорация никифоров_

  _www.nikiforovcorp.ru_

 

Yuuri’s eyebrows rose up comically as he read the message. It was formal and hasty and, all right, suspicious. Yuuri Googled the website and a quick check told him that it was a real website. It was mostly written in Russian but with a few words here and there written in English. Words that were supposed to look unique and catching but didn’t actually mean anything, like “innovation” and  “creativity”. It was - well. Like most corporate company websites. Either someone was putting a lot of their time and energy to create a fake website like this or it had been a  real ad. Yuuri bit his lip.

 

Well, whatever. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

 

_Re: re: Dog-sitting_

_Any time works fine for me!_

_-Yuuri_

 


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri had asked to meet the man in a dog park. It seemed like the most sensible idea; Viktor Nikiforov had promised to take his dog with him. Yuuri thought that suggesting that would probably reveal at least a badly thought-out scam - no real dog owner would refuse a dog park, especially if the job revolved around said animals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I'm finally back with this fic, woo! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to continue this, but now i'm back and I'm really motivated to write this fic! I'll try to update this a bit more often than I have so far <3

Yuuri caressed his temples with the pads of his fingers to stave off his impending headache. He blinked at the bright sky before dropping his gaze to his phone again. Damn directions. They were great, very informing and in English too, but Yuuri still couldn’t read cyrillic letters. How was he supposed to know that _Kammennoostrovsky Prospekt_ in his directions was the same thing as _Каменноостро́вский проспе́кт_ in the sign above his head? Of all the countries in the world, Yuuri had _had_ to pick a country where his knowledge in _letters_ didn’t come in handy.

 

Yuuri breathed out, relieved when he finally saw well-kempt treas amongst the architecture. That meant he’d found the park.

 

Park, yes. Yuuri had promised to meet Viktor Nikiforov in a dog park. It seemed like the most sensible idea; the man had promised to take his dog with him. Yuuri thought that suggesting that would probably reveal at least a badly thought-out scam - no real dog owner would refuse a dog park, especially if the job revolved around said animals. Phichit had kept mentioning _a killer dog_ or something, but Yuuri knew dogs - he was good with them. He could tell the dog _no_ if it decided to attack him. Well, probably. But it _was_ 4pm and the park was filled with dogs and their owners. Yuuri was sure that someone would help if there was a sudden dog-attack.

 

Yuuri squinted his eyes to recognise anyone in the crowd, but he was still too far away to do so. _Unless_ he didn’t know who he was supposed to be looking at. There was at least a 50% chance that Phichit was right. And oh, god, what if this Viktor had used a picture of himself but from, like, 20 years ago? That wasn’t illegal to do -  technically, it still was a picture of you, after all. What if he was just some pervert instead of a killer? He hadn’t seen Yuuri’s picture, but usually people who volunteered to dog-sit were young, right?

 

As if on cue, Yuuri’s phone pinged with an incoming message from Phichit.

 

<phichu-chu> still alive???

 

<phichu-chu> check his ankles!!!

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes, sighed and typed a “???” as a response.

 

<phichu-chu> if he wears a really long coat, check the ankles!!! If you can’t see the hem of his trousers he probably isn’t wearing anything underneath

 

Yuuri scrunched up his nose in disgust. That hadn’t even crossed his mind.

 

<yuuri> you’re not helping!

 

<phichu-chu> im sorry! Im just worried. update in every 5 minutes??

 

<yuuri> phichit…

 

<phichu-chu> fine!  every 10 minutes or im calling you and you better answer

 

<yuuri> fine! give me a sec, I’ll be in the park really soon

 

He saw the three dots after Phichit’s name indicating that he was typing something back to Yuuri, probably continuing his talk about stranger danger. Yuuri shoved his phone into his pocket.

 

Yuuri corrected the pollution mask on his face and tried to look like he knew who he was going to meet in the park. It was a lovely, sunny day, if a bit cold. There was a little bit of snow on the ground, but not heaps of it. There were dozens of dogs and their owners around him, dogs barking and sprinting around their people, chasing other dogs. Yuuri felt like he should’ve probably set up a specific place for the meeting, because the park was absolutely massive. There were trees everywhere, blocking him from seeing very far. It was nothing like Yuuri had expected. Before leaving, he’d googled that this park was in the middle of the city, basically. He hadn’t expected it to be this big, this green and this isolating - if no one had told him, he wouldn’t have guessed that there was huge, busy road right next to them.

 

Yuuri didn’t see anyone familiar and he dreaded the moment someone completely stranger to him would start approaching him.

 

But then Yuuri recognised the _dog_. It was hard not to - there weren’t any other poodles like that in the park. It had his longue tongue lolling out of his mouth, mouth wide open like in a grin, and it was running towards Yuuri. Yuuri’s heart stopped. Oh, god, had Phichit been right about the killer dog?

 

But then the dog reached him, barked and licked Yuuri’s arm, whining enthusiastically like he’d known that Yuuri had come to see it. Yuuri got his sensible mind back and remembered that maybe dog park wasn’t the right place for a vicious attack after all. What would have the motive been, anyway? Yuuri didn’t have any money on him, anyway.

 

The dog glanced behind them both, then sprinted away. Yuuri followed the enthusiastically wagging tail, trying to see anyone familiar. His heart was in his throat, nausea following and making his legs weak as he searched for a familiar face.

 

Just when he was about to give up and admit that he didn’t see _anyone_ resembling the photo he’d seen and that he was about to come face to face with some pervert any time now, someone stepped straight into Yuri’s space behind a tree trunk.

 

Oh, fuck. It was him. It was the guy in the picture. It actually was him. And not just some 20-years-later version of him, but the version Yuuri’d seen in the picture. He was as well-dressed and good-looking as he’d been in the pic. He was wearing a suit with a long, brown coat on top of it. There was a scarf hanging from his shoulders, but other than that Yuuri would never had guessed that it was mid-January. In the man’s defence, it wasn’t very cold today, but it _still_ was winter, and Yuuri was currently wearing almost all his clothes. He must look like a snowman compared to the man in front of him.

 

“Uh, hi. It’s - you”, Yuuri said lamely.

 

The man - Viktor - looked taken aback, and Yuuri remembered that the man had no idea what _Yuuri_ looked like. He shoved his breathing mask from his face and extended his arm.

 

“Oh, s-sorry. I’m Katsuki Yuuri, the person who answered your ad.”

 

The man’s face lit up. “Oh, hello! I didn’t realise at first - Makkachin tends to drag me to complete strangers, sometimes,” the man laughed. He had leather gloves on and he peeled one of them off before taking Yuuri’s hand. His grip was firm and warm. “Viktor Nikiforov.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” Yuuri said. He felt his awkwardness creeping up on him, slowly but surely. He’d been using all of his energy into hoping that he was going to meet the person he _thought_ he was going to meet, and he hadn’t even thought further. Usually he went through upcoming social interactions in his head multiple times just to ensure that he didn’t freeze.

 

“Nice to meet you too, Katsuki Yuuri,” Viktor said, then broke eye contact and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m terribly sorry, Makkachin is usually very obedient but she just ran away and I had to go after her - that’s why I look so unkempt right now,” the man huffed and flashed Yuuri and embarrassed smile. The bridge of his nose and his cheeks were flushed with red and his silvery (god, how could someone have such a white, pale hair? Yuuri had suspected heavy photoshop) hair falling on top of his left brow.

 

“Luckily we’re in a dog park - I mean, she can’t run very far away,” Yuuri said, momentarily distracted by how _good-looking_ Viktor was even when he complained about looking rumpled.

 

Viktor hummed and his eyes searched for Makkachin again. “She’s just very enthusiastic - some dogs (or people) don’t like a wet nose getting into their space, I guess,” he said, then blinked and looked at Yuuri again.

 

“Come sit with me? Let’s discuss the matter at hand.”

 

Yuuri agreed, and Viktor led them to a bench nearby. Yuuri felt a little hesitant, because Viktor was very pleasant, wasn’t he? Why did he need to find someone to dog-sit for him from the _internet_?

 

“So, Yuuri,” Viktor said. He sat down on the bench and Makkachin immediately sat in front of Viktor, chin resting on his knees. Yuuri felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the sight. It was clear to him that Viktor’s dog _adored_ him, the way it was looking up at the blond. “I’m very pleased you answered my ad.”

 

Yuuri nodded, trying to shake off the feeling that he was in a job interview. Which he probably _was_ , but… He was just trying to figure out whether this was some scam or not, right?

 

“It seemed promising,” Yuuri said, and it wasn’t a lie.

 

“Many other people have contacted me, too”, Viktor said. He stroked the dog behind the ears, paying attention to it while keeping his eyes on Yuri. “But I wanted to see you first.”

 

“I imagine they have,” Yuuri said. _Everyone_ wanted money, and if there was an easier way to get it than waitressing or bartending their youth away, well. They were definitely going to try to get it. “What made you want to meet with me?”  

 

 _Please, just don’t make a weird preposition,_ Yuuri thought. _Let this be simple dog-sitting._

 

But Viktor just shrugged his shoulders and smiled widely. “You seemed reliable to my eyes. I maybe don’t have the best intuition in the world, but I wanted to trust it this time! Besides, you don’t really know Russian, do you?”

 

“No?” Yuuri confessed, smiling a bit. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“I assumed - pardon if I jumped to conclusions - that if you don’t know any Russian, getting a job might be difficult. Obviously I don’t know whether you’re a student or something, but…” Viktor trailed off.

 

Yuuri gave him a wry smile. “Nope, not a student,” he said, offering no clarification. “And you’re right, it _has_ been hard to get a job. I’ve tried to learn the basics of Russian, but unfortunately my skills aren’t quite good enough for me to do most jobs.”

 

Viktor smiled, looking a little smug that his prediction had been right. “Great!” He said cheerily, and at Yuuri’s horrified look,continued: “No, I meant - this means that I was right and that I gave the opportunity to the right person.”

 

Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to get too excited. A part of him wanted to think that this might _finally_ be something that was going to turn his life around or, well - give it a little bit better direction, at least.

 

“I must confess”, Yuuri said slowly, deciding that he should just bring out the issue bothering him,  “that I’m a little...Surprised that you’re actually who you said you were.”

 

Viktor’s eyes widened comically. “What do you mean?”

 

Yuuri though he looked terribly cute, expressing his feelings so blatantly like that.

 

“Well...Your ad was a bit too good to be true, to be honest,” he said. “You know - full-time dog-sitting, flawless English, that picture of you…”

 

“What was wrong with my picture?” Now Viktor sounded _horrified_.

 

Yuuri gave him a suspicious look. “It was like from a model catalogue, you know. Someone could’ve been just catfishing as you.”

 

Only the most attractive, most handsome people were getting their pictures used in those kind of scams, but Yuuri didn’t feel the need to elaborate that out loud. Viktor _must_ know how good-looking he was.

 

Viktor had the nerve to look surprised. “It was a picture that was taken for an interview I did for our corporate magazine. I thought it looked professional.”

 

“Precisely,” Yuuri nodded.

 

Viktor’s brows knit together. “You’re saying that I should have had some low-quality selfie in the ad instead of a good picture like that?”

 

Yuuri smiled. “Maybe, yes. Something that looks like you’ve taken it yourself. Not all of us have people photograph us.”

 

The blond hummed thoughtfully, then fell silent. Makkachin whined because Viktor hadn’t paid attention to it for a while, and Viktor instantly gave in and said something to it in Russian, sounding fond.

 

“Your phone,” Viktor said to Yuuri, glancing at him while leaning closer to Makkachin, stroking the soft fur. “It’s been vibrating many times now. Is someone missing you?”

 

Yuuri blushed. He hadn’t even paid attention to the phone in his pocket.  “It’s, uh, my friend. He’s very suspicious when it comes to strangers and, well, my self-preservation skills, I guess.”

 

Viktor’s brows shot up towards his hairline, but his eyes were twinkling. “He was worried that I wasn’t who I said I was, too?”

 

Yuuri blushed and dug out the phone, fumbling a little because his fingers were starting to get cold. He sent a quick “im ok” text to Phichit. “Pretty much.”

 

Luckily Viktor didn’t seem offended. “You have good friends,” he observed.

 

Yuuri didn’t know what to say to that. Obviously he did, but he didn’t know how to start talking about his personal relationships with someone like this, so he just made a non-committal sound and said: “So, the job?”  

 

“Yes, right,” Viktor said and blinked a few times as if he’d forgotten what they’d been talking about. Then he looked down into his lap where the dog was resting its head.

 

“This is Makkachin. She’s four years old and she’s the light of my life,” Viktor said and ruffled the curly fur on top of Makkachin’s head. Yuuri’s heart constricted around his ribcage a little, because he’d _never_ heard anyone introduce their dog - or _anything_ in their life - like that.

 

Yuuri extended his hand to Makkachin to let her sniff it. “Hello, Makkachin, the light of Viktor’s life,” he said, making Viktor laugh.

 

Yuuri tried not to think about how this kind of interaction almost belonged to a date instead of a meeting about a job.

 

“Why do you want her to have a dog-sitter, then?” Yuuri asked. Viktor still hadn’t shown any weird, creepy signs but then again, Yuuri was _shit_ at reading people, apparently. Hence the phone constantly buzzing in his pocket because Phichit thought Yuuri was going to get himself killed.

 

Viktor scratched Makkachin behind her ears. “Lately I’ve been really busy at work and I just feel bad for having to leave Makkachin all alone for so many hours,” he said, then added, a little bitterly: “There aren’t dogs allowed at the office.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

 

Viktor waved a hand. “It’s okay, I understand it. Besides, I don’t think Makkachin would have any fun sitting around in my office while I work.”

 

“So, you need me to keep her company while you’re at work?” Yuuri asked.

 

“Yes. I usually leave for work before 8am. I try to come home at 4pm, but some days I’m required to stay at the office until 6pm or even longer,” Viktor cringed. “So far, on those days I’ve had no other option than to come home, quickly take Makka outside, feed her and get back to work.”

 

Yuuri’s brows lifted towards his hairline. Okay, so maybe Viktor really _did_ need a dog-sitter.

 

Viktor interpreted Yuuri’s reaction wrong and hastily added: “I must seem like the worst dog owner ever, I know.”

 

“No, no, it’s not that,” Yuuri assured him. “I’m just surprised you’re that busy. You seem quite young to me.”

 

Makkachin lifted her paw to Viktor’s knee. Yuuri knew just enough Russian to know that Viktor said “nice to meet you, Makka,” to her.

 

“Well, I’m the head of marketing, so…” Viktor said, trailing off. Yuuri noticed that he was being vague on purpose. He’d learned to respect it when people signaled they didn’t want to have a conversation about something, so he backed off.

 

“Okay, marketing sounds like a busy line of work,” he said, then changed the subject. “So, you need me to feed her and walk her while you’re away?”

 

“ _And_ keep her company”, Viktor added. “I mean, I’d need you to stay with her the entire day. I will pay you well, of course.”

 

Yuuri nodded. He didn’t actually _care_ care about money - meaning that it had never been something that motivated him to do things.  But he did care about money now because he had none. He didn’t necessarily care how much Viktor paid as long as it was enough to pay his rent (if he managed to rent an apartment, that was) and get him some food.

 

Viktor straightened his back and smiled at Yuuri wide enough that Yuuri saw his gums. Then he pointed towards Makkachin with a tilt of his head and asked Yuuri:

 

“So, would you like to see our apartment?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! How did you find this chapter? Please let me know! <3

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've had a rough draft of this dog sitter AU has been lying around for months and I told myself I wouldn't publish anything before the whole story was finished. Then I just couldn't find the energy to write a whole multi-chapter fic on my own and I wanted to try whether publishing a WIP would give me the motivation to continue with the next chapters! So please, please let me know what you think! <3 I just wanted a cute, first time meeting AU with fluff and dogs, so here I am! I've missed writing Viktuuri and I'm very excited about this story.
> 
> All comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! <3


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